


you are mine, i am yours. let's not fuck around.

by venomedveins



Series: Smoke and Ash [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Bodyshots, Castus being a dick, Jealous!Nasir, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3454829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomedveins/pseuds/venomedveins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fire house is having a Valentine's Day fundraiser that includes half naked firemen and a man auction. Nasir gets a little peeved. </p><p>(random one shot after Fire Starter)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are mine, i am yours. let's not fuck around.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I am not willing yet to let Fire Starter go, thus I'm going to put random one shots in this new series. It won't be consistent, but it will be there.

They have the music turned up, a clash of 90s pop and hard rock. It sets the mood as the volunteers hang streamers, large cardboard cut outs of fire trucks, and throw heart confetti over the floor. There is laughter going around too, Saxa and Naevia working on hanging a large poster of the whole fire squad – a photo from the calendar they're hanging. Everyone is shirtless, even the women, exposing breasts just like the rest of them. The fire house's annual man auction fundraiser is being held in one of the most exclusive gay clubs this year (under Naevia, Saxa, and Agron's insistence). The plan is for the firemen to sell shots for most of the night until around midnight when the auction will start. People who buy them are supposed to keep it clean – buy a fire fighter to help clean out your gutters, redo your tile in your bathroom, or escort you to a wedding or high school reunion.

Pietros and Nasir are behind the bar, wearing matching [red tank tops that read 'I love my fire fighter.”](https://img1.etsystatic.com/039/0/9136998/il_570xN.620708589_ay77.jpg) and pouring shots into tiny red cups. They've just finished with the tequila, Nasir using his teeth to pry the plastic wrapping off around the top of a Jack Daniels bottle, when the front door opens – letting in a burst of cold air and three ruddy cheeked fire fighters.

Nasir nearly drops the bottle, and how is that even fair? Months, it's been fucking months, and Nasir still gets flustered sometimes looking at Agron. His hair is spiky and pushed back from his face, aviators hiding his eyes as he unzips his leather jacket to reveal a gray tank top – the FDNY logo on the front. He spills out of it, shoulders ripping with muscles down to the veins in his forearms as he tosses the jacket over the back of a nearby chair. Nasir's heart pounds in his chest, feeling the blush raise high and warm on his face.

On either side of him, Crixus and Barca strip out of their thick coats, unwinding scarves and beanies, calling out greetings. Agron smirks towards the bar when he pulls his sunglasses down his nose, raising his hand when suddenly Mira calls out their names in a shrill, panicked voice. She's standing next to Spartacus, wearing her own tank top, and clutched a clipboard like her life depends on it. Before Agron can even move towards Nasir, she's latching onto his arm and dragging him away, snapping orders at both Barca and him to help hang the streamers higher on the wall.

“Damn,” Pietros sighs dreamily next to Nasir, leaning into his side. “I'm almost jealous of you hitting that.”

“Please tell me after you're married that it doesn't slow down,” Nasir murmurs, clutching onto Pietros as Agron stretches his arms above his head, drawing his body tight, the edge of his tank top revealing just a strip of skin along his hip.

“Barca and I fucked on our kitchen island today,” Pietros reassures, “and this was after he gave me the rim job of my life in the shower.”

“You finally got him into ass play?” Nasir turns his head with a sly grin.

“I think he heard Agron boasting so much about it, he thought he would try it out. See if he can, and I use Agron's words “make me come like a screaming freight train” in just a few minutes.” Pietros answers with his own grin, turning lewd as he wrinkles his nose.

“And did you?” Nasir finally gets the bottle of whiskey open, returning to his task on hand.

“He's sloppy, a little timid sometimes, but I don't think we've ever had this much sex before,” Pietros holds the cup steady for Nasir, “It's like all he wants to do is practice. My ass is actually sore.”

“I'm glad we could help out,” Nasir sticks his tongue out at Pietros.

“And how are you guys? Still stuck in engagement bliss?”

Pietros doesn't miss the way Nasir stares down at his ring, affectionately rubbing his thumb along the intricately carved band. When they came back from Germany, it was obvious what had happened. The whole group had been waiting on them in Agron's apartment, a kind of surprise welcome home party. They had all been poised to to greet them when Agron had swung the door open, pressing Nasir roughly around the wood, fingers buried in his hair. Nasir had thankfully turned his head towards the inner apartment when Agron moves his mouth down, and had nearly screamed from seeing all of them. Their cries of “Welcome Home!” had quickly turned to “Congratulations!” as Nasir held up his hand, gleeful laughter spilling out of both of them.

“I honestly don't remember a time when my ass wasn't sore,” Nasir laughs, spilling whiskey over his fingers, “no, but seriously, I couldn't be happier. It's just time, ya know? We've been through so much shit and now we can just be and like be together. It's nice.”

“Hey hot stuff.”

As if sensing they're talking about him, Agron suddenly appears before the bar, reaching out to gently lift Nasir's hand to his mouth. He smirks, tongue lapping out to caress the alcohol off of Nasir's knuckles, sucking them into his mouth with a lewd smirk. It leaves Nasir dazed, hot and flustered as Agron releases him.

“I'm going to get more vodka from downstairs,” Pietros rolls his eyes, already knowing he's lost Nasir's attention.

“I missed you today. You left so early.” Releasing Nasir, he presses his hand into the center of the bar and swings himself over, landing gracefully close to his fiance.

“I missed you too,” Nasir smiles soft and sincere, wrapping his arms around Agron's waist.

“I'm loving the shirt,” Agron tugs on the strap of Nasir's tank top, noticing how deep it cuts on the sides, loose enough to peek at his chest. He looks good in red, high lighting his golden tan skin.

“Yeah, I seem to have gotten myself this hunky fire fighter for a fiance,” Nasir teases, leaning back in Agron's arms, “Maybe you know him? Tall, ridiculously hot, prone to grumpiness?”

“Never heard of him,” Agron replies, shrugging his shoulders and arching an eyebrow at Nasir, “Nice cock?”

“Huge.” Nasir confirms, mouth pulling back in a wide grin.

“Well then aren't you the luckiest boy at the prom.”

Agron tilts Nasir's head up, nudging their noses together before pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. He lingers just a bit longer than chaste, cupping Nasir's jaw like his face is something precious, this man is something to be cherished and Agron never wants Nasir to forget that. When he pulls away, Agron can't but pull his bottom lip into his mouth, chasing the taste while Nasir bites his own.

“You expect me to make it through all of tonight when you kiss me like that?” Nasir teases, slipping his fingers under Agron's tank top to feel his abs, flesh firm against his hand.

“Kiss you like what? Like this?” Agron presses another kiss to Nasir's mouth, wet and dirty, tongue slipping in. He wrestles with Nasir's for a moment, overpowering it to trace a teasing zigzag along the roof of his mouth, hands buried in his hair.

“Fuck,” Nasir gasps when Agron pulls away just as quickly, fingers tingling as he presses them to his mouth.

“Mmm, we should.” Agron growls, bracketing Nasir between his arms, “I think this bar is pretty sturdy. Want to get a quickie in before everyone shows up?”

“In front of everyone?” Nasir giggles, shaking his head. “Mira would die.”

“We've done it before,” Agron shrugs, leaning down to trail kisses under Nasir's ear, whispering into it, “You wanna play like you don't want me right now? I can feel it, you know? When you think no one will notice, cock half hard in those tight jeans of yours, body aching for me.”

“Agron!” Nasir gasps, body arching into the bigger man's, gripping his shoulders with nails embedded.

Agron gives a little growl, vibrations right up against Nasir's pulse, hooking his fingers in the belt loops of Nasir's jeans to pull him forward. He grinds against the front of him, balancing Nasir on the bar as he stoops a little, tugging Nasir's tank top to the side to kiss bite his collarbones. Nasir involuntarily lifts one of his legs, hooks his thigh over Agron's hip. It's a subconscious reaction.

“What are you two doing?” Mira's shrill, stressed voice snaps above them.

Nasir can not escape Agron's grasp, but he does pull him back up, keeping Nasir curled close agaisnt Agron's side.

“Mira-” Agron starts, a cocky grin as he slips his hand down and into Nasir's back pocket.

“People are going to be here in less than an hour and we are not fucking done yet,” Mira snaps. She's usually not one to lose her cool, but the pressure of pulling off this event is getting to her, plus the early pregnancy hormones. “Agron, you need to fucking help them hang the lights and Nasir, pour more drinks! We talked abut this and you promised you would control him!”

“I was surprised-” Nasir starts, only for Mira to raise her hand.

“No canoodling until after the auction.” Mira's words are clipped and unarguemenable. She turns on her heeled boots, clipping loud and aggressively across the floor and towards Crixus who is struggling to hang a wall decal by himself.

“Canoodling?” Agron asks, bewildered as he turns towards Nasir.

“She doesn't want us all over each other tonight,” Nasir awkwardly scratches the side of his nose, moving out from under Agron's arm, “She uh, said it was bad for business? So you're supposed to act single and flirty, get more tips and sell more shots.”

“Act single and flirty?” Raising an eyebrow, Agron leans his hip on the bar, “She wants us to act like we're not together?”

“No,” Nasir shakes his head, already sensing the explosion about to burst out of Agron. “But it's okay. It's only for an evening and the whole point is for us to raise money for charity. Remember? Helping the helpless?”

Nasir scoots closer to Agron again, wrapping his arms around Agron's waist and pulling himself firmly against Agron's front. He stares up at him with big eyes, willing him to put aside his anger for just a little bit. It's not like Agron has to go fuck everyone he sees, just act overly flirty towards people, get them to pay up.

“And you're okay with this? Whoring myself?” Agron asks, fingers curling along the back of Nasir's neck, caressing the soft hairs there. Blocking out everything else, all that matters in the light gleaming in his eyes.

“Do you love me?” Nasir murmurs, hands warm on Agron's chest.

“You know I do.” Agron smiles that smile, the one that brings out his dimples and glows in his eyes, all happiness and not a shadow of doubt.

“Then that's all I need to hear.” Standing up high on his toes, Nasir nuzzles his nose against Agron's, pecking his mouth gently. “I love you too.”

He bounces away after that, pulling away under Mira's continued glare, Agron left standing there half dazed. Nasir is just to the top of the basement, going to help Pietros get more alcohol when hears Agron's voice over the blaring lyrics of “You Drive Me Crazy.”

“Wait, did you take your ring off?”

Nasir turns, holding up his hand with the large engagement ring on it, wiggling his fingers, “Never.”

\- - -

“You have some interesting approaches to this,” Agron murmurs, staring down his nose at Chadara as she drags a foam paintbrush over his side.

He can see straight down her shirt, the top of her lacy red bra holding back her breasts. Agron is gay, like 100% bonafide homosexual. Nasir can vouch for this. That one time he made out with Saxa in college was more of like accidental incest (and in his defense, Saxa and him had been arm wrestling right before. He was on an adrenaline rush). But he can still appreciate a fine rack, and Chadara definitely has one. She's accentuated her low neckline by pulling her curls up, pinning them in a loose bun at the back of her head.

“Not all of us can be as graceful and precise as your fiance,” Chadara rolls her eyes, bouncing a little to swirl the brush along Agron's ribs.

“Didn't he teach you any tricks at the tattoo shop?” Agron teases. He doesn't miss her glare.

“No, he's too busy making out with you on his table.” Chadara reaches behind her to grab the red glitter, easing it over the red swirls now traveling up Agron's side, a slightly blotchy fire design.

“You walked in on us one time, and we were still clothed!” Laughing loud, Agron tilts his head back, eyes catching sight of Nasir by the bar. He looks so good under the bar lights, eyes dark and hair shiny.

“i know. My loss.”

“I'll try to make sure the next time you walk in on us, we'll be at least semi naked,” Agron snarks, adjusting his jeans, letting them ride low on his pelvis, sharp cut of his V like a guide leading the eyes down and down.

“Glad you agree. I've heard enough about it. I might as well see it.”

To his surprise, Agron feels Chadara's hand slip along his hip to his ass, grabbing a handful with a mirthful grin.

“Hey!” Agron jerks away, swatting at her as she laughs loudly, blond curls bouncing.

“I had to. If you're going to be walking around like that all night, you're going to need to get used to it,” Chadara shrugs, cleaning the paint from her hands with a wet wipe.

“I doubt it,” Agron rolls his eyes and keeps his arms up, letting the paint dry.

“You think people aren't going to grab your ass? Between Nasir signing up to do body shots and you walking around like some rent boy, I think you'll have your hands full or more – they'll have their hands full of you.” Chadara sticks her tongue out at Agron.

“Body shots? What?” Agron's eyes move towards where Nasir is sitting on the bar, hanging tissue paper hearts from the barlights, laughing at sometime Auctus is saying.

“Oh, he didn't tell you? All stretched out on the bar letting random men lick lime juice off his stomach? Sucking salt and tequila off that navel ring you love so much? He'll make a lot of money by the end of the night.” Chadara's eyes are all light, a smirk pulling on her face, knowing by the reddening of Agron's face that this is news to him. “Maybe I'll buy a shot from him too.”

“Yeah, yeah we will. I'll be right back.” Agron murmurs faintly, turning stiffly towards the bar.

It's been a long time since he was this suddenly jealous, the fueling rage that fills him up and burns, lights Agron up in a way that only Nasir can. He can't erase the image from his mind, Nasir sprawled on his back on the bar. To think about strange guys all over him, mouth on him, drinking liquor off of his tattoo on Nasir's hip, and Agron can't see anything but red. He easily pushes a bar stool out of his way, sliding up close to the bar, and wrapping an arm around Nasir's waist. Agron doesn't give a chance for Nasir to respond before he's turning him around, pulling Nasir's body against his own.

“Ag-” Nasir starts only to be silenced as Agron pushes his mouth against his, fisting the back of Nasir's hair.

The kiss is brutal, a drag of mouths and teeth and tongues and Nasir would slip from the bar if it weren't for Agron's other hand on his waist. He has no idea what prompted it, but Nasir isn't going to complain, tissue paper hearts falling from his fingertips as he wraps his arms around Agron's neck.

“Nasir,” Agron growls, right up against Nasir's mouth, voice vibrating.

He trails his hand down Nasir's back, sliding his fingertips down into the back of Nasir's skintight jeans.

“Daddy,” Nasir answers automatically, fingers scrambling up Agron's back. “What are you doing?”

“Body shots?” Agron asks harshly. He grips Nasir's jaw in his hand, holding his attention a loft.

“Pietros thought it was a good idea,” Nasir whines his reply, trying to move forward to kiss Agron again but is held back. “It will raise a lot of money. And you're selling yourself, so why not?”

“Because I'm not letting some random asshole lick alcohol off my body,” Agron growls menacingly, “and neither are you.”

“But-” Nasir starts to protest, eyes clearing a little from the lust filled haze of before.

“You're my fiance, my baby boy,” Agron's hands turn tender on Nasir's body, changing tactic, caressing him instead of gripping, “I don't like it. I don't want to think about you selling your body ever again. We're past that.”

Nasir slides his fingers through Agron's hair, feeling the soft strands against his skin. It's always been oddly soothing for him, touching the soft spots on Agron when he usually feels all the hard. Staring at him, Nasir can tell that he's angry, but there is also something underlying there – a hidden meaningful urge to protect Nasir.

“Of course.” Ducking his head, Nasir nods quickly. “I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. If you don't want me to do it, I won't.”

“I don't want you to do it, yes, but I want you to feel like you don't have to do it,” Agron murmurs, lowering his voice as Crixus and Barca come by, laughing about something, “You have more value than just what your body looks like. You have no idea how extremely beautiful you are, and I'm not talking about your face. Your heart and your loyalty and your strength. That compassionate way you take care of our family. Everything.”

“I love you.” Pressing forward, Nasir seals their lips together in a gentle kiss, nuzzling their noses when he pulls back.

“No matter how many times I hear you say that, I never get tired of it.”

Agron flips Mira off ten minutes later when she comes and stands next to them, snapping out warnings about how they're about to open the doors soon, and can Nasir please get off the bar? And Agron you're supposed to be outside, greeting people. It is possible for them to spend an evening apart without the world ending. Instead, Agron just keeps kissing Nasir, holding his face between his loving hands.

\- - -

The party is in full swing, strobe lights sliding across the room, people laughing and talking like a wave of noise crashing hard against the music. It's a thrum that seeps inside the bones, not rattling, but like the way the sun warms you, heating you up from the inside out. Both money and alcohol is flowing,

Nasir has been swamped at the bar, pouring beers and cocktails, flirting enough that his donation box is bursting by the time eleven rolls around. He's caught sight of the rest of the fire fighters, switching out trays of shots with them, and shoving their extra cash in the donation bin. Agron has been by a few times, shooting a dimpled grin towards Nasir and letting his fingers linger on Nasir's a little too long when they switch out trays. It's cute and dashing, a type of charming that Nasir is used to but still gives him butterflies.

Nasir is busy slicing limes, fingers sticky with juice when he feels someone tug on the end of his pony tail.

“Hey I-” Nasir turns, expecting to see Naevia or Crixus or even Mira to some degree, but not the man that stands before him.

“Hey hot stuff,” Castus grins, leaning heavily over the bar, eyes scanning down Nasir's body.

“What are you doing here?” Nasir hisses, frantically looking around. If Agron sees him, all hell is going to break loose.

“I came here for support,” Castus shrugs, “I'm still on the team.”

“You are probation and leave,” Nasir tries to keep his voice down, but it ends up sounding more like a whispered yell. “You can't be here. If any of the guys sees you-”

“I wanted to say hey,” Castus flashes his wide grin, fingers spreading on a bar napkin. “Is that such a crime? Besides, my probation is almost up.”

“You stole Agron's phone, Castus, and copied all his pictures onto yours,” Nasir rolls his eyes, “You directly disobeyed your superior and you used him to get what you wanted.”

“It was an honest mistake. Our bluetooths synced up. I said I was sorry already,” Castus laughs, reaching for Nasir's hand. He promptly pulls it away, sneering at Castus.

“You kept a photo of me blowing Agron as the background on your phone.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Nasir glares at Castus, “You sent the video of me riding him to everyone on the fucking squad. I had to get the call from Spartacus to come pick Agron up or he was going to end up in jail. I can barely even look Donar and Lugo in the eye anymore.”

“It was a good video,” Castus laughs, sobering a little at Nasir's glare, “Besides, there were a lot more things I could have sent out that I didn't. We're lucky that video didn't have your face in it.”

“That's not the fucking point,” Nasir rests his hands on the bar, leaning forward so he can keep his voice down even more, “I have fucking tattoos, Castus. Everyone knows it was me and him. And now everyone has a front row seat to our personal lives. I said things in those videos, did things, that were only meant for Agron, and it was a direct violation of our privacy.”

“Look, I won't tell anyone about the fisting or the time with him and the dildo,” Castus reassures, but when he reaches for Nasir's hand, he roughly shoves him away.

“Go to fucking hell. You're disgusting and I should have let Agron beat the shit out of you instead of trying to keep him calm.”

“I told you, it was an accident. You know technology isn't reliable,” Castus tries to be smooth, shimmy up towards Nasir, but Nasir holds his hand up, stopping him.

“Leave me alone,” Nasir growls, snatching up a bottle of whiskey to finish filling shot glasses.

“Nasir,” Castus laughs, “The harder you play the more I'll just pursue you. Why do you have to act like you don't want me? I'm not blind. I can see the way you blush when you look at me.”

“I'm engaged,” Nasir snaps, holding up his hand so Castus can see the ring, “I'm engaged and I don't want you. I've never wanted you. Yeah, you're attractive and charming, but did you ever think I would leave Agron – fucking Agron – for you? I won't and I don't need my huge, angry fiance coming over here to defend me. I swear to god, I'll punch you in the face myself.”

“If that's how you feel,” Castus shrugs, “But I really think you're just saying that because you're confused about how you're feeling. We should go out sometime, give it a try. I promise, Agron doesn't have to know.”

Over the top of Castus' beanie, Nasir can see Agron surrounded by laughing men. There is one that has his thin pale hand on Agron's chest, sipping a plastic shot glass with the other. Ignoring Castus' continual flirting, Nasir's stomach suddenly drops as Agron flashes the boy one of those beaming smiles, flexing his arms as the small crowd coos over him.

It's a strange feeling, the heat slowly melt over the top of his head, stomach cold, jealous bubbling up his throat. He wants to grab the twink's hand throwing him away from Agron and stake his claim. And Agron looks so good, jeans hanging so low that it hints at what lies underneath, sharp cut of his v and hips and his tattoos just highlight it, like a landing strip for someone's mouth. It's such a contrast to the way his jeans stretch taut across his thighs, powerful muscles that ripple at his slightest movement.

The cut of his shoulders flash under the strobe lights, and his waist is so thin compared to the sharp, broad triangle of his torso. Nasir wants to rake his fingernails down Agron's back, feel all that hot, heavy weight pressing down against him smothering him. He needs him, right now, wants to taste his skin, pull him away from the crowd and into someone close and dark.

“Go away,” Nasir murmurs, waving his hand as Castus as he moves around the bar. He can faintly hear Pietros calling for him, but he ignores it, coming to an abrupt halt a few feet from Agron's admiring posse.

Agron notices him instantly, turning his head just a little, a cocking that is both admiring and inviting. His eyes slide down Nasir for a minute, taking in the slope of his shoulders, the gleaming of his eyes in the lights. Agron loves looking at him, loves watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest as Nasir's gaze takes on this sheen, this powerful hunger that Agron can not ignore.

Raising his hand, Agron curls his first finger towards Nasir, an easy but loaded invitation. Nasir pauses for just half a moment, just long enough to take a deep breath, before he's shoving the crowd.

“What's up?” Agron asks, surprised as Nasir presses firmly against his front.

“Come with me.”

Nasir's fingers are cool, almost cold, as he wraps them around Agron's wrist, tugging him away from the admirers, ignoring him dropping the mostly empty tray of shots. They give a tiny cry of protest, but Agron can't hear anything, doesn't fucking care. His only focus is on the steady way Nasir guides him through the crowd, the chilling press of his engagement ring right up against Agron's pulse point.

Shoving the bathroom door open, Nasir doesn't even spare the boys at the sink a look, moving quickly into one of the stalls. It's a tight fit, with Agron's shoulders nearly spanning the tight cubicle, but somehow he manages to get the door shut.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Agron laughs, breathless and instantly turned on.

“I want to touch you.”

Nasir slides his hands along Agron's shoulders, pressing his mouth wetly to his collarbones. Agron's skin is burning up, skin soft but up close like this, Nasir can smell him, the thick musk that pours over Nasir's nose, fills him up with it. He doesn't waste time, moving quickly along the toned lines of Agron's chest, down across his abs, licking along Agron's hip.

“Nasir,” Agron groans, head tilting his head back against the wall, “Fuck baby boy.”

“I hate it. I hate them watching you, touching you, debating among their friends who is going to buy you tonight,” Nasir hisses, yanking Agron's belt open. “Like they're going to just somehow convince you to fuck them all.”

“There were a lot of boys. I'd probably need more than a few hours,” Agron stares down the length of his body as Nasir gets his jeans open, pulling then down to Agron's knees.

“Shut up,” Nasir swats at Agron's flank, fist curling around the base of his cock, “This is mine. You are mine. And no one is going to come between us.”

“Shit babe,” Agron groans, presses a wet kiss to the side of Nasir's neck.

“Don't ever fucking forget who gets you off,” Nasir snaps, roughly jerking his hand down Agron's cock, twisting his wrist, “Who pleases you. Who submits to your cock and takes it, begs for you to fuck me. I do that, not some twink in pleather jeans. I make you want it, crave it, demand it.”

“You're so hot when you're jealous.”

Curling his fingers in Nasir's hair, Agron guides him forward, dragging his cock along Nasir's open mouth. Nasir scoots forward, tongue lapping along the tip, tasting the pearl of precome already there. He doesn't even need to guide him, Agron's hand still is tight in his ponytail, but his control is lax as Nasir moves forward, taking him into his mouth.

He doesn't take it easy, instantly slipping Agron down into his throat. He sucks hard, bobbing his head quickly, letting the taste of Agron fill his mouth. Down here, Nasir can block out everything else, the slightly stickiness of the floor, the music pounding through the bar, even the patrons streaming in and out of the bathroom. He fills himself up on Agron's taste, the smoothness of his cock, the way the curls at the base of it tickle the tip of his nose every time he goes down.

It's not eloquent or tactful, but wet with drool sliding down Nasir's jaw, messy and needy. He wants it more than he thinks he ever has, twisting his head as he moves, fingers turning to claws on Agron's thighs. Craves the attention, knowing only he can do this to Agron, only he can reduce him to a moaning, slick with sweat.

“Fuck baby,” Agron growls, hands flexing in Nasir's inky hair, “Let me fuck your throat.”

Nasir moans loudly, nodding his head the best he can around suckling on Agron's tip. He licks back and forth over the crown, hinting teeth just enough to feel the danger. It's just the way Agron likes it, and he answers with his own groans, holding Nasir's jaw.

Starting off easy, Agron begins to thrust into Nasir's mouth, bracing one hand against the wall of the bathroom stall. He's never been the type to have control though, pistoning his hips forward. Nasir's throat constricts around him, fits him perfectly, a tight vise that is made for Agron's cock. His stomach twists, orgasm so close already.

Rolling his balls in his palm, Nasir relaxes against Agron's body, lets him use him. He wants Agron to take what he wants, know Nasir is always willing to give. Submit under Agron's pleasure, his body, his never ending strength. He can barely breath, but it's freeing, letting himself drown in Agron – trusting him.

“Nasir,” Agron whimpers, an actual high pitched cry, as his body curls over, catching himself on the wall. Too good and too quick.

It's all the warning he gives him, hands turning even tighter, body thrusting harder. He fills up Nasir's mouth, shooting down his throat. It spills down his chin, some of it dripping onto Nasir's chest above the deep cut of his tank top. He doesn't waste it though, pulling back to gather it on his long, tan fingers, sucking it off with a quiet moan.

“God damn, baby boy,” Agron pants, collapsing down to kneel before Nasir. It's so close their knees knock, and Agron pulls Nasir up and into his lap to make up for it, slumping against the wall.

“You're mine as much as I am yours, you know that right?” Nasir asks, voice scratchy and faint, resting his forearms on Agron's shoulders.

“Of course,” Agron nods, reaching for the front of his jeans, but Nasir grips his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Save it,” Nasir rests his head on Agron's, “I want you to fuck me from behind when we get home.”

“Yeah?” Agron's grin is lewd, hands moving around to his ass.

“Yeah,” Nasir presses quick, wet kisses to Agron's mouth, “I will even do that thing you like,” Nasir teases his fingers down Agron's bare chest, tracing his sternum. “Press my ass back against you, clench right up against you when you bottom out.”

“You better stop or I will pick you up and carry you out of here right now.” Growling, Agron presses the vibrations right up against Nasir's giggle.

They kiss sweet and slow for a few minutes, holding Agron's face gently between Nasir's hands. All the rapid fury seems to have melted away from Nasir, satisfied and sedated as he opens his mouth for Agron's, welcomes in his tongue and wrestles with it lazily. It doesn't last, as much as he wants it to. They're broken out of their spell by the loud sounds of someone puking next door to them, air filling with thick scent.

“Ugh,” Nasir groans, pulling away. He shuffles a little, managing to stand around Agron and give him enough space to stand up.

They take a few minutes to straighten themselves out. Agron affectionately smoothing Nasir's hair back, kissing his forehead as Nasir uses toilet paper to try and even out the paint down Agron's side. Grasping their hands together, they exit the bathroom, getting ready to separate but Agron pulls Nasir back, kisses him rough and sure.

“I love you, you know that right?” He murmurs, eyes dazzling this close, “I don't want anyone else, never will.”

“I love you too.”

Nasir does know it, has never doubted it before, but he stills buys Agron for a thousand dollars later, grinning in the faces of all the disappointed men in the crowd. (He makes Agron do housework naked).


End file.
